


I got my own flower shop au

by ThatDamnLemonade



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Florist!Mark, Just stuff, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is Whipped, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, enjoy, jaemin and jeno are just mentioned, just a drabble really, norenmin engagement mentioned, not edited, they're about 3-4 years older idk really, writer!donghyuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnLemonade/pseuds/ThatDamnLemonade
Summary: Lee Donghyuck, as muddle-headed as possible and still a charming sweetheart, has a strange relationship with solitude. He yearns for it and dislikes it in the same breath. Having had enough, he is kicked out to socialize. What he expected was maybe a breath of fresh air and a nice walk. What he didn't expect was to develop a crush on a florist.





	I got my own flower shop au

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a flower shop au but i've never written anything along those lines before. As practice...this was born. Just a short piece feat. whipped Donghyuck.
> 
> I hope this is an enjoyable (and mildly bearable) read.
> 
> To all those 'forever alone' people like me. [Yeah and if you read till the end, don't forget to read the end note! ;) ]

Donghyuck shivered.

Winter was closing in and every evening, the temperature took another dip across the line of tolerance. If nature wasn’t going to do anything about it, the poor boy was going to throw a fit.

He didn’t dislike the cold. Rather, he enjoyed it. There was nothing more comforting than a huddle of blankets around his shoulders, a cup of steaming tea between his palms (courtesy of his roommate Renjun), and frost on the windows. There was something very scenic and personal about the frost part, he believed. After all, he could spend hours watching tiny droplets of condensation race each other every afternoon instead of that pretty little liars rerun his friends had been planning for weeks. Every time Donghyuck found himself staring at swiveling white patterns or just dew on leaves, he also found himself wishing for the warmth of a person to share all these moments with.

He was, so to say, the soloist of his friend circle. He had dated before (three times too many, he shudders at the memories) but he was the sort that didn’t enjoy awkward silences. He didn’t like faking smiles or interests to push along. There were moments in life when he wished he were alone. He needed someone who could understand that silent side of life-- without ruining it.

It was sometime during the summer, when Renjun had offered to beta read one of his works before submission to the literature club. They had been working on an anthology for the upcoming summer festival at their college and if Donghyuck didn’t write then, he knew he wouldn’t ever pick up pen and paper to be creative again.

He was in a, for lack of a better term, rut.

His story was short and sweet, something about imagery in life that could only be appreciated at moments when you are by yourself. Heck, the title was ‘peaceful moments of solitude’. Renjun, however experienced with chokeholds, managed to gain mastery in the art of glaring with pity that day. They spent an hour arguing after the piece was edited and revised. Donghyuck doesn’t quite remember the exact words or time, but it was definitely past four in the evening and he was trying to explain that he might be lonely but it was alright because he had good friends (which was a small group by the way-- just Renjun, his two boyfriends and a pair of mischievous neighbors ).

He had been kicked out with an ultimatum.

“Don’t you dare come back before dinner and if you haven’t met at least one new person by then, I’m asking Nana and Jeno to shift in with us!” The door had slammed on his face before he could finish pulling on his sneakers.

He had wandered along their small college neighborhood, exchanging polite greeting with familiar faces and the occasional wave from someone he had spoken to in class.

Before he could convince himself to jump off the next bridge (because living with an openly affectionate and lovey-dovey c-- wait, you can’t even call them a couple-- trio, was going to be worse than hell) he came across a huge arrangement of flowers. He hadn’t seen this around before. Strange.

Looking around, Donghyuck realized he had strayed too far. This was a shopping street slightly off the road he usually took. He shrugged, realizing his phone was on his desk at home. He could have turned around right then and run back home or called Renjun to pick him up from some or the other store. But it seemed like too much of a coincidence.

A nearly empty street, the aroma of baking strawberries, a beautiful display of sunflowers and daisies right under his nose…was this…no…

He shook his head and slapped himself mentally. Sure, he wrote fiction, which meant he read _more_ fiction than necessary and being part of multiple fandoms had led him down the path of no-return—fluff and AUs.

He felt his fingertips tingle at the thought. Was he in his own flower shop AU? Isn’t this how most of them met? Accidentally running into each other outside the shop, ruining bouquets by mistake (he wouldn’t do that, the flowers were innocent), the shy customer and confident cashier dynamic, the confident customer and shy cashier dynamic—he didn’t realize he had been listing the possible scenarios on his fingers when a voice jerked him back to reality.

“Um…excuse me? I need to bring the display back inside, can you please step aside, sir?”

And that was it.

He raised his eyes curiously and was met with a boy, just an inch or two taller than himself, with ebony hair shining under the setting sun. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and his breathing was labored. His high cheekbones were pink with the heat and exhaustion and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. A black apron hung loosely around his body and before Donghyuck could appraise him further, the boy repeated his request.  He had been cleaning up, by the looks of it, and now the only obstacle in his path was a stunned Donghyuck.

He nodded quickly and stepped backwards, careful not to send the vases tumbling onto the road.

Before anything else could happen, he turned away and ran. The evening air was heavy yet smooth as he gasped every few minutes, the feeling of running this hard being foreign to his body.

 _Donghyuck, you’re whipped baby, whipped_ , he thought to himself, gulping as he reached his front door and raised his finger to ring the doorbell.

 

That led him to where he was standing now. He was dressed neatly in warm dress pants; a high-necked sweater he had stolen (“Borrowed!”) from Jaemin’s cupboard a week ago and a sweet beige cardigan his mother sent him last winter. He had hidden it away because his mother kept cooing over how adorable he looked in it. Earlier that morning, she had called him, asking what spurred on the many thank you and kissy face messages with a picture of said sweater (“It feels like a threat Hyuckie…” “Trust me mom, I’m just appreciating you!” “Who are you and where is my ripped jeans son?!”)

He let out a nervous sigh and flattened his rust colored hair, running his tongue along the seam of his mouth.

He pulled back his fingers from the door and covered his hands in an attempt to get those cute sweater paws that everyone was fawning over these days. He looked through the glass door again. The man of his fascination and the muse that had unknowingly crept into his work over the past few months, stood with his back to the door. He seemed busy with a pair of scissors snipping away at something. Donghyuck could spot something pinkish from around his smudged silhouette and took in a deep breath.

The door to the store clanged open and the accompanying bell rang pleasantly.

“Welcome!” He turned around with a sweet smile, “What would you like today, sir?”

“H-Hey…um…I’m looking for something to congratulate my friend. They’re getting engaged and it’s a little complicated, but I want to show my appreciation anyway.”

“I’m afraid the weather isn’t very good for certain flowers…that I would have recommended otherwise.” He sighed but the smile never left his lips. They looked soft and a little tinted. Donghyuck was sold.

“Oh, okay. Thanks any-”

“I can suggest some other arrangements though. Would you…like to check them out?”

 _Excellent customer service_ , he nodded, trying to reply with a pretty smile of his own. He knew the effect his heart shaped laugh had on many of those that had crushed on him. He might as well as try.

“What about a small combination of red and white chrysanthemums? It’ll be a nice gesture, I believe,” Donghyuck stole a glance at his name tag—Mark said as he moved away from the counter and to what he assumed to be a very long freezer. Before he knew it, Mark was back with exactly two red chrysanthemums and two white ones. They were visibly cool and Donghyuck couldn’t help but touch a few petals delicately. The chill travelled down his fingers and the realization that the store was fairly warm finally settled over. No wonder his teeth weren’t chattering against each other.

“Chrysanthemums are beautiful and large flowers.  Even these many can be arranged together peacefully.”

“What do they mean?” Donghyuck quipped, holding up a fist over his mouth and sniffling.

Mark raised his eyebrows as if he was a little surprised that Donghyuck didn’t know already. His mouth settled back into a breathtaking smile as his nose did that little scrunchy thing Donghyuck had been trying to put into words for the past month. He realized he wasn’t breathing and sucked in a deep breath as Mark opened his mouth to speak.

“What do you think?”

“War and peace?” Mark let out a little giggle that sent Donghyuck’s head reeling and hands reaching for his phone. He had to record this otherworldly sound right away _. No, that’s stalker behavior. You can’t do that._

“Red for love and white for loyalty. One each for both of them.”

“Then make it three.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t ask…actually it’s a poly engagement. I know right, I haven’t even heard of one before this. So, can I get three of each?”

Mark looked at him in amusement and rushed back to the freezer. By the time the flowers had been wrapped skillfully into a long arrangement with tendrils and small delphinium peeking out from the white wrapper, Donghyuck had finished counting the visible moles on Mark’s body and committing them to memory.

If it were any other person, they would have looked away or blushed with shame. But this was Donghyuck. And Donghyuck was a writer who couldn’t type more than two paragraphs without deleting everything and cursing the entirety of the ancient Egyptian government that had nothing to do with whatever he was doing  (read: trying to write).

He paid Mark in cash after forgetting his debit card pin for the third time that week, and took the bouquet, cradling it as if it were made of precious gemstones. In a way, it was just as important.

Donghyuck turned away to leave, very reluctantly and gave the other boy a little wave ( _Wow Donghyuck, aren’t you just creepy_ and _awkward?_ ).

Only if he hadn’t been on seventh heaven (more like lost in dark brown eyes filled with mirth) when he reached home, giddy and cheeks burning with both happiness and the cold, he would have noticed the small card tugged in between the ribbon on the base a little earlier. Or maybe even the single chamomile that had somehow reached his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> Chamomile: "Energy in Adversity"
> 
> After all, being a member of the college publishing committee, Mark had grown smart enough to realize when the character descriptions of his favorite student author began resembling him. 
> 
> Not to mention all the times he had spotted the boy lurking near the display window. If that human manifestation of sunshine and all things warm and wonderful wanted to take his time...Mark would gladly wait (with his best poker face or business smile because blushes can give you away easily y'know).


End file.
